The First Step
by nek0-sama
Summary: "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Troy Bolton just hasn't quite figured out what that first step is, yet. An alternate take on the senior prom in HSM3. Slash.


**A/N: **It's been a while, hasn't it? Every time that I pay a visit to the Tryan section of this site, my heart is pained to see that there aren't any new fanfictions, and haven't been for months, now. 

I feel that it's time that was rectified, don't you agree? 

**Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, possess any ownership claims to any recognizable trademarks of the **_**High School Musical**_** series. They are all © of Disney. **

**Warning: Stating such is almost redundant, at this point. If it's written by me, it's safe to assume that it contains slash. Aside from that, and allusions to the abusive nature of a certain relationship, I can't think of anything else that a reader could potentially find upsetting, here.**

**The First Step**

_"I don't plan on missing my prom."_

Troy Bolton stood before the mirror in his family's bathroom. He watched his reflection attentively as he slid the knot of his tie up to its designated spot under the collar of his clean, pressed, white dress shirt. After putting on his black blazer, he grabbed the keys to his pickup truck, and covertly snuck out of the house.

He expressed his gratitude under his breath that there would be no flashing cameras held by insistent parents to hold him up. _I'm running late, as it is. _Troy jammed the key into the ignition with shaking hands.

Gabriella Montez's voice echoed in his head. _"I can't be a little adult right now, Troy. I'm hoping you understand that."_

Troy understood. He comprehended very well that, if his girlfriend couldn't be the adult in the situation, then he would just have to be grown up enough for the both of them. He turned the key and clenched the steering wheel anxiously. "Come on… come on." A sigh of relief escaped him as the worn-out engine of the vehicle spluttered to life.

Now, it was just a matter of hoping that the rusted old truck would be able to get him to his destination without breaking down. Once he placed his _boutonniere_- a word that he considered to be a few syllables too long for describing what was basically a flower, but who was he to complain?- in the hole in his lapel, Troy checked his hair in the dashboard mirror, fastened his seatbelt, and took a deep breath.

He'd told his best friend, Chad Danforth, that he wasn't missing the prom. Troy Bolton liked to think of himself as a man of his word.

He shifted the gear into reverse, hoping that he wouldn't come to regret his decision. Assured that the road was clear of incoming cars in both directions, Troy pulled out of the driveway, his stomach knotted like a pretzel, and his heart thundering. His mind racing in time with his pulse, Troy thought to himself, with a dry, humorless laugh, _I hope that I don't forget the dance moves she taught me._

* * *

The doors to the East High gymnasium opened. Heads turned as the person that most people had given up on putting in an appearance, made his way through the crowd.

Troy swallowed, the stares and whispers doing nothing to help slow his heart rate. Before his mind could blank, he slapped on a smile, and nodded a greeting. "Hi, guys."

"Troy!"

The brunet turned at the sound of his name. He spotted Chad Danforth's signature head of bushy curls headed his way. "Hey!" Troy called, raising his arm in a wave.

The crowd of their, for the most part, well-dressed classmates parted, allowing Chad and Taylor McKessie, his date and girlfriend, to get through. "You made it!" Chad said with a grin when he stood in front of Troy.

"Some of us were convinced that you weren't going to show up," Taylor spoke up. She lowered her voice so that Troy had to lean in to hear her when she added, "Chad told me about Gabriella."

"Oh. Yeah." Troy smiled, ignoring the ache in his chest. He knew that Taylor was trying, in her own way, to show him some sympathy. Which, was no easy task for her, if the look in her brown eyes was anything to go by.

Chad reached over, jostling the taller boy's shoulder in a friendly manner. "But, enough of that, right, man? You're here to have a good time!"

"Yeah." He was. Troy was there to take advantage of one of the last events he'd attend with all of his classmates. The absence of one person, regardless of how _gaping_ that absence was, would have no effect on that.

"So, why don't you get some punch," Chad nodded vaguely toward a table, "find a girl-"

_Girl? _Troy's eyes widened, the upturned corners of his mouth falling into the beginnings of something like a frown.

"-And-"

Whatever else Chad meant to say was lost as the DJ for the dance, a man in his early twenties, cut the bushy-haired basketball player off. "East High Seniors!"

People at last pulled their eyes off of Troy, and some cheers went up in response to the call.

"We have a request from one of your own," the DJ went on, his tone lively. "So grab your favorite guy or girl, and snuggle in close while we…" He paused to switch tracks. "…_Slow_ things down."

Troy shuffled his feet awkwardly, his gaze falling to the floor as Colbie Calliat's voice asked softly through the set of speakers, "Will you count me in?"

Chad and Taylor traded a look. Chad opened his mouth, ready to explain something that needed no explanation.

"Go ahead, man. You came here to dance, right?" Troy waved the pair off, grinning.

"Yeah," Chad scoffed, giving a half-hearted roll of his eyes. This put him on the receiving end of an elbow jab from an unimpressed Taylor. He made up for it by murmuring a very sincere apology. The senior class president took a moment, but accepted the apology, and permitted Chad to steer her into the area where the rest of the senior class twirled about the floor in pairs. "I better see you dancing before the end of the night, Bolton!" Chad called back over his shoulder.

"You got it, man!" Troy replied with much more enthusiasm than he honestly had. He sighed, then skirted the perimeter of the dance floor to find a seat. Along the way, he spotted Jason Cross and Martha Cox. The latter looked to be slightly bored with the slow tempo of the song, while Jason appeared to be too busy studying the placement of his own feet to look up.

Troy also caught sight of a bowler hat, black sequined tie that shimmered under the light, and dressy beige suit that could only belong to one person. His heart fluttered a bit as the blue eyes of Ryan Evans locked with his own. Just like they had earlier that day, during rehearsals for the spring musical.

Surprise flashed across the blond theater king's fair face for an instant, before it was replaced by a smile. Ryan expertly spun Kelsi Nielsen, the petite, curly-haired brunette composer for the drama club. When his face came back into view, Ryan mouthed, "Hey."

"Hey," Troy mouthed in return. He managed to find a seat nearby, and dropped into it. Trying not to stare too long at anyone, on the off chance that he managed to give someone the wrong impression, the golden boy of East High preoccupied himself with picking lint off of his black dress slacks. He attempted to push images of dark waves of hair, liquid brown eyes, and shimmering pink lips set against olive skin, out of his mind.

About half way through the rather repetitive, "Bubbly", by Colbie Calliat, a female voice choking out, "Oh god…! I'm so sorry!", became discernible.

Troy looked up, alarmed, just in time to see Kelsi dodging around bodies as she took off, her hands concealing her face.

_What the hell…?!_ Instinctively, Troy jumped to his feet. He craned his neck, leaning to either side as his eyes sought out Ryan. He managed to get a glimpse of the blond, and the stricken expression on the boy's countenance, before the murmurs and whispers started up again.

A gob-smacked Chad looked at the male half of the Evans twins with widened brown eyes, shaking his head disapprovingly as he did so.

Taylor's eyes were stretched wide, as well, but her posture suggested anger.

Swallowing, his face noticeably blanched, Ryan set off, dodging around bodies, himself, as he went after the distraught girl.

It took Troy but a moment to process everything. Irritation heated his insides as the gossiping about whatever incident had just occurred, grew louder in Ryan's wake. _How do they know that it's his fault? _He looked on as Martha crossed to Taylor, confusion painted on her face, and Taylor gestured to the doors, her body language communicating that her expression was set in a scowl.

Troy's mind was made-up on what his next course of action should be.

* * *

"Kelsi? It's okay. I-I over-reacted. You don't have to stay in there all night."

Troy peered around the corner to find Ryan standing in front of the door to the women's restroom.

Ryan's light, alto-tenor pitched voice was lowered in what sounded like an attempt to be soothing. Instead, it came off as stilted and awkward.

The reply was every bit as strained. "_Please_, just go away…!" Kelsi's voice dropped, cut off by a sound that Troy, himself, knew all too well; a sob.

_Shit_, he thought, his heart twisting.

Ryan respected Kelsi's wishes. Heaving a sigh, he moved away from the restroom door, and stood there. The empty hallway seemed to diminish Ryan. His anguished expression and visibly slackened posture served to make him appear even smaller.

Troy found himself torn. When Gabriella accepted the early enrollment at Stanford University, which he had encouraged her to do, the distance separating them had taken its toll on him. He became distracted, messing up the choreography in the musical, and affecting the overall spirit and motivation of the rest of the cast. Despite this, Ryan, the show's choreographer, and Kelsi, the composer, loyally stood by him, offering him sympathetic glances, shoulder pats, and hugs.

It would have been well within their rights to be _furious _with him, or at the very least, extremely frustrated. Instead, they were sitting with him at lunch, Ryan even offering to buy him a cookie, if the treat would help to pull the golden boy out of his funk.

Troy wished that he possessed the ability to comfort both of his friends. Yet, he was more than aware of his limitations. As he stepped forward, he was hit by a flash of blue eyes; widening, softening, as they drew closer. He could practically taste Ryan's cologne on the tip of his tongue. "A-Anything I can do to help?"

From the way Ryan's entire face lit up, it appeared that Troy's presence was help enough on its own.

The taller brunet approached the smaller blond, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his own slacks. "Prom's not going so well, huh?"

A humorless laugh left Ryan's mouth. "Not exactly." He tried a slight smile, and nodded toward a spot on the floor beside where he had slumped down.

Taking the hint, Troy walked over and slowly dropped into the space Ryan indicated. He situated himself against a locker. The hard metal surface was not the most comfortable thing to lean on, something he knew from experience, but, _Ryan is worth putting up with some minor discomfort for. _

"How are things on your end?" Ryan inquired, blinking. He scanned his companion's face, as if he wanted to be sure that he hadn't struck a nerve.

Troy swallowed. It was his turn to laugh without any humor behind it. "Gabriella called me a few hours ago. As you can probably tell, she… she couldn't make it."

"Why?"

A lump tightened in Troy's throat. The feelings of disappointment, of heartache, of self-loathing, all came rushing back. He shrugged, blinking before tears could sting his eyes. His voice fell to a near whisper. "I guess that coming back here would have hurt her too much."

Ryan's brows furrowed, his gaze soft, sympathetic, thoughtful. He chewed the inside of his mouth in consideration for a moment. "Troy."

"Yeah?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, calling you to say that? That sounds pretty selfish."

Troy hoped that his mouth hadn't dropped open in astonishment. Gabriella? _Selfish? _Those two words, and the ideas they contained, simply refused to interconnect in his mind.

"She couldn't have been entirely oblivious to how upset you've been these past few weeks, right?" Ryan clarified in a dulcet tone, his eyes darkened by concern.

It hit Troy, in the manner that a sudden lightning bolt flashes, illuminating a dark sky. His heart sank into the bowels of his stomach. She _knew_, she had known, even before she left, that he was clinging to the hope that they wouldn't let the distance ruin their plans for the prom. Yet… "She made it all about _her _feelings." Once again, a lump tightened his throat. He felt stupid, as if he _should_ have said, or done_ something_, but lost his chance.

Troy glanced at Ryan, discovering the boy's blue eyes misty. His heart ached sharply in his chest. When he'd followed Ryan, it definitely wasn't with the intention of digressing from Ryan's own conflict, and causing him further distress.

Right as Troy opened his mouth to apologize for once again, proving that East High's golden boy was a colossal screw-up, Ryan spoke up, his even voice adopting a lilting tone, once more. This time, however, everything about it sounded natural. "_She_'s the one missing out." He offered a smile that made Troy's insides feel like they were melting, before adding, "Because you look absolutely _stunning_." Pink swiftly colored his cheeks before he'd finished the sentence.

Troy's own face grew hot, the rest of his body following suite. It was a pleasant sort of heat, however, the kind that put a smile on his face, and made him feel like he could soar across the gym. He'd take hold of Ryan's hand, and…

The door to the women's restroom opened. Simultaneously, both boys looked over.

Kelsi stood before them, her body rigid, and her blue green-eyes stretched wide. "_Troy_?"

"Hi, Kelsi." Troy smiled slightly.

The tiny girl had pulled her brunette curls up, and ditched her glasses in favor of contacts for the occasion. The fact that she had done so much to pretty herself up worsened the effect of seeing the evident red splotches that stained her already pretty face.

"You made it after all!" She gasped.

"Of course." Troy could only hope that his voice didn't give away the fact that he almost _didn't_ make it.

Kelsi's eyes sparkled, and for a brief moment, a smile tinged her lips. Then, her eyes shifted to Ryan. All traces of a smile vanished.

Troy turned to find that the performer had no obvious outward reaction to this. Yet, he had an unsettling feeling that Ryan was internally squirming.

A heavy silence descended on them. Troy groped for something, _anything _to say.

The corners of Ryan's mouth twitched. He, too, was searching for words.

After a moment, it was Kelsi who broke the silence. "My mom should be here, soon." Her gaze fell to the floor.

Troy's eyes widened, his stomach knotted up, once again.

Ryan finally recovered his tongue. "You-You don't have to leave."

"Yeah!" Troy jumped right in, following Ryan's lead. "Come on, Kels, this is _your _senior prom! You should be in the gym, right now, having fun, not hanging out here in the hallway, and definitely _not_ crying in the bathroom."

Tears glistened in Kelsi's eyes. She raised her hands to wipe at them, an action that would have smudged her eyeliner and mascara, only to discover a handkerchief being offered to her by Ryan. "Thanks," she murmured.

"Don't mention it." Ryan shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"You don't _really _wanna go, do you?" Troy inquired tentatively. He got to his feet and utilized his patented, "puppy-dog", eyes.

He felt a trill of delight course through his body as Kelsi cracked a slight smile, a laugh escaping her. An instant later, the smile slipped from her face. "I don't think I could go back in there and face everyone, after running out like that." She shook her head, resigned.

Troy sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. They'd tried.

Ryan looked to the athlete. He was waiting for a sign, an indication of what to do next.

"Do you want us to wait with you?" Troy lifted his eyes to the petite girl's face.

"Sure." Kelsi cleared her throat, her voice considerably stronger as she added, "Y-Yeah."

Together, Troy and Ryan moved toward her.

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry, Kelsi," Ryan said quietly.

"I know you are, Ryan."

"After we graduate," Ryan went on, raising his arm as if he intended to touch Kelsi's shoulder in a friendly manner, only to drop the limb back to his side. "I know that you're going to find a hot, sweet, perfect guy, who's actually attracted to _girls_, and he's going to think of you as his entire world."

Kelsi might not have picked up on the way that Ryan's gaze subtly shifted from her to another brunet standing nearby, during his description of the "perfect", guy. She might not have discerned the light of passion in the theater king's eyes when he said, "think of you as his entire world".

Troy, however, most certainly did.

While they waited inside the building for Kelsi's mother's car to pull up in the parking lot, Troy began to have an inkling that Ryan's feelings for him were more intense than he might have realized. As they walked with Kelsi to her mom's sleek, vintage van, he caught Ryan staring at his face. Ryan sheepishly averted his eyes, and that warm, fluttery feeling stirred in Troy's heart again.

It was more than an inkling, now.

* * *

"So."

"So?"

"Ryan."

"Yeah?"

Troy turned around to face the blond. "I guess we're both dateless now, huh?"

He was met with a gently pitying, tight-lipped smile. "I guess we are."

Taking a moment to inhale deeply and calm his racing heart, Troy ventured, a smile on his face, "You know, we don't _have _to be."

Ryan blinked his dilated eyes curiously.

With no hesitation, the athlete offered his arm to the theater king.

Incredulous, Ryan's mouth dropped open. He appeared to be floundering for words until, mere seconds later, his beautiful, genuine, radiant smile emerged to overtake his face. He slid his arm through Troy's, and Troy copied the action until their shoulders were touching.

That feeling of weightlessness overcame Troy's heart with greater intensity than before. He could practically feel his skin tingling. His eyes meeting Ryan's, he licked briefly at his own upper lip. "You ready?"

Ryan gave a nod, not breaking the eye-contact. "I'm ready."

Troy nodded, himself, if only to reassure his companion that he had no doubts about this. Or, to perhaps relay that he was equally enthused. Turning simultaneously, they re-entered the gym together during a lull in the music. Eyes were raised from dance partners and dates to the new pair. The expected whispering started up, but it might as well have fallen on deaf ears for all the mind Troy paid it.

He and Ryan found their own little area behind the tree decoration that had been set up in the center of the floor.

Martha, the head of the prom-committee, had, for some reason that evaded Troy, decided that a _tree _would help to establish an atmosphere that fit the prom's fantasy theme of, "The Last Waltz".

The music for the next song kicked in. A synth-pop beat that held all of the essence of the eighties, poured out of the speakers. Troy took this as his cue to take hold of Ryan's hand, interlacing their fingers, with his left hand, and to place his right hand on the outer curve of Ryan's hip. He swallowed, his chest unexpectedly tightening.

Ryan proved to be perceptive, as always. "Are you nervous?" He asked softly, taking the initiative to lead. He peered up into Troy's eyes, side-stepping in perfect time to the beat of the song that Troy would later learn was titled, "Flashdance… What A Feeling".

"A little bit." An anxious smile tugged at Troy's mouth. He countered Ryan's steps.

"Don't be." Ryan used his left hand, which rested on Troy's shoulder, to deliver a reassuring squeeze to the athlete's bicep. All at once, his sky blue eyes and candied pink lips were more entrancing than they had ever been before.

Troy was very conscious of his heartbeat speeding up like he'd just completed a mile run.

"You've got this."

With the combination of the certainty backing Ryan's words, and the lyrics of the song attempting to motivate him to leave his fears and insecurities behind, Troy regained the confidence that he needed.

It helped that Ryan was an incredibly talented dancer. On the spot, he made up choreography that suited the song. _Ry's also easy to dance with. _And, indeed, he was. By the time the song picked up, the dance moves that Gabriella had skipped class in order to teach Troy on the school's rooftop, had slipped his mind. But, that didn't matter. Ryan's style of dancing was very different from Gabriella's. It was more fast-paced, and involved a lot more bodily movement, particularly movement of Ryan's hips.

Troy was so caught up in the music, the moment, caught up in Ryan, a wide grin broke out on his face. Peals of laughter ascended from his throat. Ryan joined in, his laugh light, almost melodic. The athlete drew the performer into him. Their hips met, and terrific pleasure shot through Troy's body, leaving the tips of his fingers tingling. He leaned in just enough so that his lips just grazed the smooth skin of Ryan's creamy throat, then, he spun Ryan out, moving quickly to catch the boy. Because, not having Ryan within touching distance caused his heart to pound in a significantly less enjoyable way. Once Ryan was back in his arms, Troy ran his hand up the smaller boy's body, a part of him wishing that the contact was skin-to-skin.

Ryan pressed his backside to Troy's front, and Troy could feel the moderately labored contraction of Ryan's lungs as his own chest rose and fell. The music faded out. For a second or two, Troy was convinced that he had heard a sound reminiscent of a stifled moan coming from his beautiful friend. _Date_, Troy's subconscious corrected him. _That's right. Ryan is my…! _

With another motion that seemed to require minimal effort on his part, Ryan whirled himself around, so that he and Troy were face to face. "See?" Ryan's eyes glowed brightly with pride, and a certain other emotion that Gabriella's liquid brown pools had never reflected quite as powerfully. "What did I tell you?"

Spellbound, Troy continued to stare at the fair face of his prom date. "Yeah. You were right, Ryan." _About so many things…! _Each beat of Troy's heart seemed to be speaking to him, whispering encouragement, urging him to lean forward, to seal the gap between him and Ryan. Ryan's eyelashes gave a slight flutter, and Troy drew in closer, fully ready to heed the advice of the insistent pulsing in his chest.

Something stopped him, a nagging sensation that he had to do something else first.

"Ry…"

"Yes?" Ryan's voice was quiet, his expression somewhere between confused and expectant.

"I'm sorry, but there's something that I need to do. Will-Will you come with me?" Troy swallowed, hyper aware that his palms were perspiring.

A part of Troy already knew just what Ryan's answer would be, but a wave of relief still washed over him when that light, alto-tenor pitch conveyed, "Of course."

* * *

Ryan stared at Troy's truck, his brows arching at the state of the vehicle.

Troy took in his companion's expression, and felt his face heating, and his insides writing with shame. At one point during the evening, he had actually seriously contemplated driving the pickup that broke down taking him to and from school, _one thousand miles away_ to Stanford University. To Gabriella.

_Gabriella._

"I have a quick phone call to make," Troy announced.

"Alright." Ryan nodded, and, placing his hands behind his back, politely stepped away.

Troy scrolled through the list of names in his phone until he came to hers. He had her number memorized after the year and almost five months that they had been together, but if he had to dial in each digit manually, he feared that he would lose the courage to do what needed to be done. His heart was clenched in a vise during each agonizingly slow ring. _Come on. Pick up! _A part of him urged her. Another, greater part of him, was almost afraid to hear her voice.

Because, once she started to speak to him, he'd never be able to get out the words that he _needed _to say. They'd be silenced forever by liquid brown eyes and girlish sighs and giggles.

The final ring seemed to stretch on for two solid minutes. At last, the automated voice kicked in, informing him that Gabriella wasn't available, and to leave a message at the tone.

Heart in his throat, his hands trembling, Troy waited for his cue, and then left his message. "Gabriella, it's Troy. I'm sorry that you missed the prom. But…" He swallowed, his saliva dropping onto his stomach with the force of a punch from Bruce Lee.

He could hear her voice now, her words echoing in his mind, _"I don't think I can do it, Troy… I love you, Wildcat. But, I need to stay right where I am."_

Then Ryan's voice chimed in, _"That sounds pretty selfish." _

Troy's stomach steeled with sudden resolve. "But, that was _your _decision. Not mine. And, I-I need to start making my own choices more often." His voice quavered, and his knees shook with enough intensity to a bring a very concerned Ryan rushing to his side. With Ryan's blue eyes anxiously examining his face, Troy went on, "So I'm going to start, now. You went your own way, Gabriella. I have to go mine, too. Even-" The lump in his throat almost choked him with the abruptness of the epiphany, "Even if I have no idea what that is, right now."

"Troy?" Ryan's inflection was wracked with worry.

Hot tears blurred Troy's vision. He wiped them away to find Ryan standing in front of him. _Ryan. _Without a moment's hesitation, he did what felt _right_, and reached out for one of Ryan's cool, slender hands. "I'm pretty sure that I've got someone who will help me figure things out." He smiled, waiting for Ryan to catch on, anticipating that brilliant smile brightening Ryan's entire face, and causing the deep concern darkening his eyes to be replaced by a fierce sparkle.

He didn't expect his own heart to respond to Ryan's elation with a burst of exhilaration that Troy hadn't experienced since he first heard his phone ringing, earlier that evening. Before Gabriella's cryptic words had crushed his short-lived happiness.

Or… maybe Troy did expect to have such a reaction. He was already losing himself in Ryan's eyes, again, so he quickly wrapped things up. "Good luck at Stanford." He ended the call, snapped his phone shut, and then used the arm that was already linked to Ryan's at their hands, to bring the smaller boy in closer. As Troy wrapped his arm around Ryan, the warmth that emanated from the chreographer's form sent pleasant shivers traversing the full length of Troy's body.

"Whatever you're meant to be, Troy", Ryan said, solicitously, "I_ know _that it's something amazing."

"Yeah?" Troy could barely contain his happiness, and it showed in a smile that threatened to split his face.

"Yeah." Ryan shifted closer, his eyelashes veiling his eyes, and blush coloring his face. "And-And I'll do whatever I can to see to it that you… th-that you…" He seemed to have lost the words that he meant to say.

Troy was in the same boat; struggling to communicate his gratitude, his delight, his wish that he could always have Ryan at his side, over the heat pooling in his stomach and liquefying his heart. "I know you will, Ry," he said simply, hoping that it sufficed.

Ryan looked to Troy, his eyes full of what Troy finally recognized as _love_, want, and uncertainty.

So, Troy provided Ryan with assurance. He pressed his mouth to the blond's, savoring the sweet taste. The brunet's insides quivered with acute bliss as the kiss was eagerly reciprocated. At one point, Ryan nearly lost his balance, but Troy caught him just in time, embracing the performer tightly. This action resulted in Ryan smiling into the union of their mouths, another smile that Troy simply couldn't help but return, especially as Ryan's hands took hold of the lapels of his black blazer.

_You know, I'll catch you through it all_. Perhaps Gabriella wouldn't return such a showcasing of devotion. But, Ryan?

Troy knew that he didn't even have to ask. It would take time for him to figure out just what his own dreams were, but having someone to provide him with unconditional love, and support along the way, was an excellent place to start.

- Fin.


End file.
